Chapter 6
I called Helen’s former assistant about the mailing instruction.
She checked the archive. Mom had asked them to hold the copies until she confirmed Maya’s current address. The originals had remained safe at the firm. Nothing about Vanessa appeared in the mailing record.
I was relieved. I had begun to suspect every missing piece of paper had been moved by someone.
I called Maya and told her.
“Mom was still trying to find me,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Can you send me a picture of her note?”
I did.
Later that week, I visited Mom’s grave alone. I told her Maya had come back, that we had found her piano teacher’s old number, and that I had driven the Maybach once.
“It starts on the first try,” I said.
I stayed until the sun dropped behind the trees.
When I returned to my apartment, Vanessa was waiting outside. She stood beside her own car, holding a folder.
“I won’t come in,” she said. “I only want you to see this.”
I kept a few steps between us.
“What is it?”
“The appraisal. I ordered it before I knew Maya had a share. I thought you might want to sell because the house made you sad.”
“I’ve seen the request.”
“Then you know I never listed it or took a fee.”
“Yes.”
She handed me the folder. Inside was the complete appraisal report, with the amount she had paid herself.
“I should have asked you,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I’m not asking you to get back together. I want you to know I didn’t take money from your mother.”
“I haven’t said you did.”
“You looked at me like I had.”
I remembered how I had felt after Maya whispered about the will. Vanessa was right that I had feared the worst.
“I was suspicious,” I said. “I’m sorry for suggesting more than I could prove.”
She nodded. For a moment, we stood like two people who knew each other well enough to remember love and not well enough to find our way back to it.
“I spoke to Aisha,” she said.
That caught me.
“About what?”
“I told her everything I remembered from the day I found the older will. I also told her I called Helen’s firm. I should have done that when you first asked.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I was afraid you’d think I knew there was a newer will.”
“Did you?”
“No. I thought there might be other documents. I should have told you that.”
I believed she was finally giving me a fuller answer. It did not change how she had treated Maya on the street.
“You mocked my sister before you knew she was my sister,” I said.
“I thought you were cheating on me.”
“You could have asked and listened.”
“I was angry.”
“I saw that.”
Vanessa looked down.
“I’m sorry I made her feel small.”
“Tell her if you want her to know.”
“I will.”
She returned to her car. I carried the appraisal inside and placed it with the estate papers.
The next morning, Maya called after receiving a message from Vanessa.
“She apologized,” Maya said. “I told her I accepted the apology for what happened on the street. I didn’t promise anything more.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“How are you?”
“Better today.”
We talked about her dog, a stubborn terrier named Lucky, and the piano she had last played as a teenager. It was exactly the kind of ordinary call she had asked for.
The estate process moved ahead. Aisha explained each step before we signed anything. Maya and I opened a shared account for house expenses while we decided what to do. Neither of us could spend from it without the other seeing.
It was simple. It made us both feel respected.
I suggested using the house for family visits rather than leaving it empty. Maya agreed. She would stay there during her next trip, and I would keep a room for myself.
On the first evening she returned, we cooked Mom’s rice and chicken recipe. I remembered how Mom browned the chicken. Maya remembered the spice she added at the end.
Between us, dinner tasted almost right.
Afterward, we sat in the living room beside Mom’s piano.
“I have something to tell you,” Maya said.
My stomach tightened.
“It isn’t another secret about the will,” she added quickly.
She had found letters from her father explaining why he had stopped bringing her to visit. He claimed Mom no longer wanted contact. Mom’s unsent letters told a different story.
“I want to ask him about it,” Maya said. “I’m afraid of the answer.”
“Do you want me with you?”
“Yes. If you can.”
May you like
I took her hand.
“We’ll go together.”
